Insomnia
by wyles77
Summary: Shepard can't sleep. Liara can't sleep. EDI doesn't need to. A three-POV one shot in the Better Angels 'verse, ME3 setting. M for mature themes.
1. Shepard

**A/N**: _A couple of people requested that I try another one of these three viewpoint stories. This one has quite a different tone to the first one, so I'll be interested to see what you guys think. (Well, I'm always interested in that, but you get my drift, no?) Initially, this was going to be EDI's chapter in Call to Arms, but sometimes a tale just won't go where I want it to... M for ladies sexytimes, so if that's not your cup of tea, nothing to see here (or in the next two chapters). Bioware owns the characters, I'm just taking them out for a bit of fun._

* * *

**Shepard**

It's late.

Shepard can't sleep.

Rest is eluding her for the third night running. Since the moment they dropped out of the relay right into the middle of the resurgent Morning War, it's felt to the commander as though there's barely been a second to catch their breath. And action begets action, as bloody usual, the inevitable cosmic domino effect; achieve one objective, have a new one take its place. Find the quarians. Save the quarians. Infiltrate the geth dreadnought. Shut down the Reaper control signal. Rescue Legion. Escape from disintegrating ship...

_Star-dappled darkness all around. Fingers numb from the cold, chest burning from trying to breathe air that isn't there. HUD alarm wailing, shrieking uselessly. Terror, panic flaring briefly, then smothered under the weight of the dark pressing down. Choking, I can't, I can't...I..._

A sharp crack shatters the moment.

Shepard starts, gasping for air as she shakes the memory clear. _I got out, I got out, it's OK_, she reminds herself, sucking in deep lungfuls of air to slow her suddenly racing heart. Going EVA to get to the dreadnought had taken every last ounce of her willpower and a reassuring comm feed from Liara, and the awful moment in the fighter bay when the gantry had given way and tossed her into open space had snapped the last threads of her grip on her fear. She wasn't embarrassed to admit she'd screamed, her cries scraping her throat raw in the insulated coffin of her hardsuit until Legion had snatched her back to the deck. How she'd managed not to swing for Admiral Gerrel in the war room, her face still streaked with tears of fury and fear, is still something of a mystery to her.

Swallowing to clear her mouth of the sudden taste of copper, Shepard continues to stare, gritty-eyed and thick-headed, out of the cockpit's forward windows, watching the blue-white energy discharges rippling across the ship's hull. It's a soothing sight, one that reminds her of her childhood, falling asleep in the flickering blue light beneath a viewport. That same view in her cabin, though Cerberus could never have known it, is one of the reasons she's come to love this ship, to think of it, more than any other, as her home.

She has the space to herself; Joker is off-shift, with EDI at the helm, her mobile platform recharging in the AI core. She's closed the doors to the bridge to permit solitude, a private space in which to try and regroup. On nights like this, and they are becoming ever more frequent, her beloved cabin is a trial, claustrophobic with the knowledge that restorative slumber will not come, kept at bay by the constant litany of plans, strategies, and reported facts. And below the spinning gearwheels of conscious thought, she is laden with dread at the nightmares that will come with sleep, stripping away any restful benefit as she writhes under the subconscious lash of her guilt, suffocates beneath the mass of the casualties, the damage, the grief. The boy from Vancouver waits for her, and she's sick of the sight of him.

Her only respite is the calm that Liara's presence brings, and even that is short-lived. While holding Liara close as she falls asleep has a definite comforting effect, the peace no longer lasts. She's become used to Liara being there, but as the night lengthens and her subconscious takes hold, as the nightmares drive her to thrash and scream, and then she wakens to toss and turn in agitation for the remainder of the night, she knows she's keeping her lover awake, denying both of them the rest they sorely need. Liara reassures her that she does not mind, but she can see the toll it takes on the asari's already slender supply of sleep. And evenings when they manage to go to bed together are becoming ever more rare - between the bridge shifts, Liara's data feeds, the meetings and the responsibilities of leading the crew, there are days where they hardly see one another except for stolen moments. Worse, with Liara off the roster for shore parties, there's a hole in Shepard's preferred ground team makeup, a constant irritation at expecting Liara's solid support and refined biotic style and finding Javik's sneering, vengeful rage at her shoulder instead. _Yeah_, a little voice murmurs, _it's tough being you, ain't it? Moping like a little kid because you're up past your bedtime and having bad dreams, and you can't go play with your girlfriend. Grow the fuck up - plenty of people out there are far worse off._

Grimacing, Shepard rubs her hands across her face and leans forward to brace her weight against the upper hull, resting her head against her forearms. Her skull feels too small for her brain, her pulse throbbing at her temples. She checks the chrono on the main helm interface and winces. Oh-three-seventeen, or oh-Christ-hundred hours as Ash invariably refers to such times in the mid-watch, her dislike of early rises profaning even her respect for her god. Four hours or so till Shepard has to meet Chakwas - the doc is going to strip the paint from her hull if she shows up to that without having gone to bed. _And she'll be right to. I just have to find the willpower to resist the idea of her knocking me out. There's too much to do for me to sleep all day._

She looks down, notices the slowly expanding pool of thick brown liquid oozing from under the cracked pieces of a mug on the deck. "Shit," she breathes. She has no recollection of dropping her hot chocolate. _Good thing it was already cold_, she muses, seeing the stains soaking into her combats where the impact splashed her. She should be irritated by the waste of the drink, a precious ration that isn't easy to resupply, but she can't muster anything more than bemused curiosity as she watches the puddle spread.

The door behind her hisses open, but before she can react a pair of slim blue arms encircle her waist, drawing her back against the soft curves of a warm body. A familiar perfume teases her nose. A kiss brushes the side of her neck, and a chin comes to rest on her shoulder. A soft, beloved voice speaks. "You can't sleep?"

"Backatcha," Shepard parries with a smile, twisting to kiss Liara's cheek. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I should be," Liara agrees, squeezing Shepard, "but I found there's something missing from my bed."

Shepard tenses, resisting Liara's attempt to draw her into a closer hold. "You won't get any sleep if I'm there."

Liara's teeth nip mischievously at her ear. "Your confidence has always been alluring, Commander," the asari murmurs huskily.

"Shit," Shepard croaks as a spark of heat flares down her spine in response to both the touch and the sultry warmth of Liara's voice. God, but she could lose herself just listening to the asari talk. "I, uh, didn't mean that the way it came out. You're injured, and..."

"I'm healing," Liara rebuts, tightening her hold. "I have one more therapy session with Chakwas tomorrow, then one more day of light duty. I don't imagine a little extra exercise would do any serious damage at this point." The asari's hands shift, tugging Shepard's shirt from the waistband of her pants so that she can slide her palms against the human's stomach. "I miss you," she whispers. "I feel like I've hardly seen you since we left Lessus."

"You needed to recover," Shepard reminds her, though her resolve to continue keeping her distance is being sorely tested by the wandering of Liara's questing fingers, across her abdomen, up to the hem of her bra, down to her waistband.

"Well," Liara purrs seductively, "now I need something else." She kisses Shepard's neck again, her breath hot and provocative. Her hand cups one of Shepard's breasts, squeezing lightly, and Shepard groans, half in pleasure, half in frustration, letting her head fall back against Liara's shoulder. She'd like nothing more than to go along with Liara's wordless request to make love, but...

"I can't."

The confession slips out before she can catch it, and Liara's hands and lips halt, frozen in place by what sounds like a rejection. There's a moment of silent stillness, then Liara begins her caresses again. "You can't what?" she asks playfully, tweaking Shepard's nipple to punctuate her question.

"I'm sorry, Liara," Shepard whispers, sighing. "I'm so tired. I can barely think, and my head feels like someone's been using it for an anvil. I'd love to make love to you, I really would, but..." Shit, this has to be a new low, being too tired to take Liara to bed. Her eyes sting with tears at the admission, the failure, testament to the frayed state of her emotions.

Liara removes her hands, wrapping her arms tightly around Shepard's shoulders in a comforting hug. "I don't need you to make love to me, Rachel," she replies, her voice strong, soothing, assured. "I just need you to be near me. I want you with me, even when you can't sleep, even when you have nightmares. _Especially_ then." She nuzzles closer, places a cool kiss upon Shepard's throbbing temple. "I'm here for you, my love. Don't shut me out when _you_ need _me_."

Shepard rolls her head forward till her chin touches her chest, and sucks in a long breath, thankful for the depth of Liara's compassion and care. "I need you," she admits. "I can't unwind, can't relax. I just need to stop thinking, but I've got no energy to even do brainless exercise."

Liara moves to step round her, and she throws out an arm to block the asari's route as she notices her bare feet. "Careful. I dropped my drink - the shards are probably sharp." She studies the broken mug again. "I should clean that up."

Liara steps to the opposite side, skirting Shepard and dropping into the pilot's seat. Raising her knees, she lets her legs fall apart and pats the seat between them. "It will keep. Come sit with me," she invites. "We can never actually let you drive the Normandy, you understand - for safety's sake - but now's your chance to pretend."

Shepard laughs. She's never going to live that cab trip on Illium down, and yet somehow, she doesn't mind in the slightest. "I promise not to touch the steering wheel," she retorts as she follows Liara's lead, settling between the asari's outstretched legs and leaning back. "Joker would kill me if I messed with anything." Liara's arms snake around her waist and hug her close.

"Kiss me," Liara requests, and Shepard gladly complies, turning her head and meeting her lover's silk-soft lips with own. Liara's hand strays up to cup her cheek. Shepard deepens the kiss as she feels Liara's mouth open beneath hers, feels the asari's tongue nudging possessively at her lips. The contact is thrilling yet familiar, a much needed reminder that no matter what, they have each other, that she is not alone. Sighing contentedly, Shepard breaks the kiss and settles against her beloved.

Liara's hands dip beneath her shirt again, stroking her stomach lightly, setting a calming rhythm in time with the steady ripples of energy over the hull. "EDI," she says suddenly. "Lock the door and shut off your sensors in this compartment, please."

"Complying," the AI acknowledges.

"Liara, what..."

"Shhh, it's all right. I just don't want anyone barging in and disturbing you," Liara soothes her, pressing a kiss to her neck, right at the spot where she knows Shepard is sensitive. The commander shivers, a pleasant, warming sensation of mild arousal spreading from the contact. She closes her eyes, lets herself drift, but is brought back to the moment abruptly when the catch on her pants pops open, and Liara's fingers insinuate themselves beneath her underwear.

"Li!" she gasps, tensing with shock, then stifling a moan as the asari strokes between her legs teasingly. "Oh, God."

Liara kisses her neck again, scraping her teeth gently against the Spectre's skin as she picks up a slow, gentle cadence. "Relax, Rachel," she urges tenderly. "Let me take care of you. You need to stop thinking, so stop thinking. Just feel." Her mouth trails down Shepard's neck to her collar, heated nips and kisses that leave a trail of tingling skin in their wake. The asari's free hand is splayed across her abdomen, anchoring her. Her clever fingers work over Shepard's sex, familiar with their task, rousing her slowly and steadily, cranking the coil of tension deep inside inexorably tighter and tighter. Somewhere in the far distance, a rational part of her mind is calling a warning, that the cockpit is not either of their quarters, that it's wildly inappropriate to even think about getting to second base in such a public part of the ship, but the caution lacks the activation energy to overcome the pleasure Liara's touch is evoking. Another part of her can't quite believe that Liara has initiated such a bold course, but she's really, in the end, too overwhelmed to analyse it. Closing her eyes, she decides to obey Liara's instruction, relaxing into the moment. A blissful warmth is radiating from where Liara's hand rests on her abdomen, a warmth stoked by the asari's deft caresses between her thighs, the touch neither teasing nor too direct, fingers sliding easily, sensuously, over her increasingly wet, heated flesh. Shepard groans softly; it's been a while since she felt this good.

"I love you, Liara," she breathes, arching back into the asari and allowing her legs to fall as far apart as she can, stating without words that she trusts her lover implicitly.

Liara nuzzles into her neck. "I love you too, Rachel," she returns, her voice vibrant with emotion. "Goddess, I am blessed that you are mine."

"Ditto," Shepard agrees, tensing as Liara's hand slips lower, as the asari slides two fingers inside her. "You, ah...are the best thing... ohhhh... that ever happened to me." Her hips jerk involuntarily as Liara drives her fingers deeper, and the asari tightens her hold, swivelling her palm till the fingers of her restraining hand can take up the abandoned measure against the bud of Shepard's sex, a sly counterpoint to the slow beat of her thrusts.

"You're so beautiful," Liara whispers. "And I love that you trust me this much, that you'll let me so deep inside your defences, that you are not afraid to show me your cares and your fears." She kisses her way back up Shepard's neck to her ear. "Let me in, Rachel. Embrace eternity!"

Shepard relaxes, and Liara slides effortlessly into her mind, her radiant presence making the commander feel as though she's just jumped into a pool of sunshine. _God, I love this. You make me feel better just by joining me_, she throws out, and she can feel Liara smile.

_I know. I feel it, too. I..._ A sudden thread of dismay weaves its way into Liara's thoughts. _Goddess, I knew you were tired, but this... oh, Rachel._

_It's OK, sweetheart_, Shepard tries to reassure her. _Being here with you makes it OK._ It's already having an effect, her cares and worries evaporating in the blazing intensity of Liara's emotions. Drifting within them, Shepard can feel Liara's love, more completely than words could express, and her own emotions swell in response, breaking the dam the delineates her own consciousness_. Deeper, Li,_ she manages to plead. _Help me forget. _

_I will._ Distantly, Shepard senses the physical impetus as Liara increases the pace of her ministrations; within the meld, pleasure crescendos across their shared awareness, amplifying as it echoes between the human's physical reaction and the asari's empathic joy in bringing such delight to her lover. _Let go, my love,_ Liara's voice commands, and Shepard willingly surrenders. Her climax is a gentle thing, a subtle release of tension that suffuses her with satisfaction and well-being, blending with the joy of being held and cherished by Liara, body and mind. The asari's emotions reverberate with similar gratification; no physical release, but pleasure at having brought her overtired, overtaxed beloved some respite from her cares.

Overcome with sudden, irresistible lassitude, Shepard lets herself sink deeper into the protective cocoon of Liara's mind as her body sags into Liara's arms. _M'tired, Li,_ she whispers.

_I know. Sleep, my love. I'm here._

_G'night._

Liara's thought drifts in from very far away. _Goodnight, Rachel. Sweet dreams_.


	2. Liara

**Liara**

It's late.

Liara can't sleep.

She drifts out of a light, troubled doze, checks the chrono by the bed, and winces. Oh three ten. Barely half an hour since she last checked. She shifts position, too quickly, flinching as the movement stresses the still-healing muscles of her abdomen, failing to choke back the groan of pain that leaks past her lips. Wincing, she looks around, contrite in anticipation of having woken her exhausted lover.

Shepard is not there.

Blinking blearily, Liara wrestles herself carefully into a sitting position, cursing the lack of mobility imparted by her injury; the mind-bleaching terror of the banshee's attack has faded with exposure to the immutable security of Rachel's presence, leaving in its wake the frustration of physical frailty. She's in her own quarters, lit in muted blues as the feeds on the monitors continue to stand sentry over the galaxy's data. The side of the bed where Shepard would ideally be asleep right now is cold, still made, and the revelation elicits a sigh as Liara realises that once again, Rachel is having trouble sleeping, and is staying away to prevent her restlessness from disturbing her injured lover. _Enough is enough. She needs to rest. I have to try and help her._ She ignores the whisper of accusation that she's being selfish, only wanting the commander at her side because she sleeps better in Rachel's arms.

Slowly, carefully, resenting her residual infirmity with every huffed breath, Liara rises resolutely from her bed and dresses in the soft trousers and vest she favours for relaxed evenings. Not bothering with shoes, she pads across the cold deck to the door, snagging Shepard's battered hoodie from the back of her chair as she passes. "EDI, where's Shepard?"

"Commander Shepard is in the cockpit," EDI replies. "She appears to be... watching the stars."

"Is she alone?"

"Yes." There's a peculiar inflection in the AI's voice that makes Liara curious.

"EDI? Is everything all right?"

"Shepard... does not look well," EDI hazards the colloquial assessment after a long pause.

"She's not sleeping," Liara replies helplessly.

"I have observed this pattern. It correlates with her increasing stress levels. My biometric records indicate that the stress she is currently experiencing is greater than at any point in her residence aboard this ship. That is to say... I have never seen her so worried."

"Nor I," Liara agrees shortly, unreasonably irritated by EDI's sterile diagnosis. "Thank you, EDI. I will talk to her."

"Liara, may I ask a question?" EDI has chosen to be oblivious to the dismissal, and Liara has to bite back the urge to say no.

"Of course."

"I am curious. How you will talk the Commander into sleeping? If her condition is physiologically driven, instilling a desire to rest may not be sufficient."

Liara grimaces. "It's a figure of speech, EDI." Her displeasure softens as an idea takes root. "And I have more than mere words at my disposal. Can I trust in your discretion?"

"Of course. I am only a 'blabbermouth' when someone does not take pains to request confidentiality," the AI replies primly. "I thus consider such conversations 'fair game' for repetition."

"I shall have to make sure I remember that," Liara remarks dryly. "Will you promise not to speak of anything you witness between Shepard and I?"

"I promise," the AI affirms, sounding peculiarly childlike in her enthusiasm. Smiling to herself, Liara begins to walk.

The mess deck is quiet; only Chief Daniels, fixing herself a mid-shift coffee, is present. She nods a friendly greeting but does not impede Liara's progress with conversation. CIC is busier, with four of the crew on station. Fortunately, all of them are working at terminals near the galaxy map; the long neck of the bridge is unmanned. Liara quickly indicates that she's not on duty, leaving them to their work as she proceeds to the cockpit, where EDI courteously gets the door.

Shepard is staring at the floor, her head resting against her crossed forearms where she's braced them against the roof. A broken mug rests at her feet, an island in a small lake of what was once presumably hot chocolate and the human is intently studying the pool as it advances slowly toward her boot. Every line of her body is drawn with tension and fatigue; she looks as though the braced position is the only thing keeping her upright. Aching for her exhausted lover, Liara drops the hoodie and steps close, embracing Shepard firmly from behind and dropping her chin on the human's shoulder. "You can't sleep?" An obvious opening, but sometimes subtlety is inadequate.

"Backatcha," Shepard returns, kissing Liara's cheek as she, equally predictably, deflects Liara's concern back upon her, but her smile lifts a little of Liara's concern. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I should be." Liara tightens her embrace, trying to draw Shepard in. "But... I found there's something missing from my bed."

Shepard stiffens, unwilling to surrender so easily to what she perceives as selfishness. "You won't get any sleep if I'm there," she objects.

Liara understands perfectly well that Shepard is referring to her restlessness, but accepts the opportunity the clumsy explanation affords, nipping lightly at the Spectre's ear. She needs to override Shepard's sense of responsibility and guilt, which will be quite the challenge. She will take any help she can get. "Your confidence has always been alluring, Commander," she drawls, the truth of the statement reflected in the arousal stirring in her belly. There's no reason her plans can't be pleasurable for them both, after all.

"Shit," Shepard groans, blushing and shifting her weight awkwardly as she realises Liara has misinterpreted. "I, uh, didn't mean that the way it came out. You're injured, and..."

"I'm healing," Liara interrupts the imminent excuse, tightening her hold with more success this time. "I have one more therapy session with Chakwas tomorrow, then one more day of light duty." _Thank the Goddess._ Being confined to the ship is beyond frustrating. " I don't imagine a little extra exercise would do any serious damage at this point." She grasps Shepard's shirt and pulls it free of her waistband, slipping her hands under the material to touch the warm skin of Shepard's abdomen, enjoying the feel of the taut muscle beneath her hands. "I miss you," she confesses. "I feel like I've hardly seen you since we left Lessus."

"You needed to recover," Shepard says dutifully, but there's a catch in her voice that suggests her willpower is weakening. Encouraged, Liara intensifies her assault, letting her hands drift lightly over Rachel's sensitive skin. She knows her lover is ticklish, but all is fair in love and war, as the human herself would say.

"Well," she does her best to sound inviting, "now I need something else." She kisses Shepard's neck again, letting her breath whisper over skin, cupping a breast and massaging it to make her intentions explicit. Shepard's breath escapes in a tortured moan as she tips her head back to rest on Liara's shoulder.

"I can't."

Liara stops, momentarily shocked. Has she pushed too hard? She can hear frustration in Shepard's voice, and the last thing she wants to do is add to Rachel's burdens. If she's not in the mood, so be it, but Liara wants to be sure this is not Shepard still trying to protect her, so she perseveres, resuming her caresses. "You can't what?" she asks lightly after a moment, tweaking Shepard's nipple to divert the human's attention - she does not trust herself to keep her emotions from showing in her expression.

"I'm sorry, Liara." Shepard's voice is barely audible. "I'm _so_ tired. I can barely think, and my head feels like someone's been using it for an anvil. I'd love to make love to you, I really would, but..." There are tears in her eyes as she trails off, and the pain in her expression is irrefutable. This is no misguided attempt to be noble; she truly is beyond the point of being able to manage the exertion. _Oh, Goddess, love, I'm so sorry_.

Liara wraps her suffering lover in a fierce hug, a platonic contact she hopes conveys simple support. "I don't need you to make love to me, Rachel," she asserts firmly. _I need you to listen to me, really hear me_. "I just need you to be near me. I _want_ you with me. Even when you can't sleep. Even when you have nightmares. _Especially_ then." She nuzzles closer, kissing the human's temple, breathing in the clean scent of her hair. "I'm here for you, my love. Don't shut me out when _you_ need _me_."

Shepard's head drops till it rests on her chest, and she takes a deep breath. "I need you," she reciprocates, her voice already regaining confidence. "I can't unwind. Can't _relax_. I just need to _stop_ thinking, but I've got no energy to even do brainless exercise."

Liara assesses her options quickly. Her original plan had been to coax Shepard back to her cabin, make love and then try to get some sleep, but it's clear the human is not up to an extensive session. She glances at the pilot's seat, and a blindingly simple solution presents itself. _Do I dare?_ Liara makes to move past Shepard to assess the logistics, but the human stops her with an outstretched arm.

"Careful." She nods to the spill on the floor. "I dropped my drink - the shards are probably sharp. I should clean that up."

Liara moves past her on the opposite side."It will keep," she points out as she sits down. The pilot's seat is more than big enough for what she has in mind. Now all she needs is the nerve. "Come sit with me. We can never actually let you drive the Normandy, you understand, for safety's sake, but now's your chance to pretend."

Shepard, to Liara's relief, laughs at the weak joke at her expense. "I promise not to touch the steering wheel," she concedes she sits between Liara's outstretched legs and leans back. "Joker would kill me if I messed with anything."

Liara wraps her arms around Shepard's waist. "Kiss me," she pleads. If she's really going to do this, she needs a little adrenaline, a little arousal to boost her audacity. Shepard grants the request, and the contact between them is heated enough, hungry enough, to provoke the necessary boldness, or at least a facsimile of it in Liara's desire to bring Shepard a moment of simple, primal pleasure. She resumes her exploration of Shepard's abdomen, keeping the contact gentle. She runs through her plan one more time, and adds two final precautions. "EDI, lock the door and shut off your sensors in this compartment, please," she orders.

"Complying," the AI acknowledges. Hopefully she will remember her promise.

Shepard is confused. "Liara, what..."

"Shhh, it's all right," Liara soothes. "I just don't want anyone barging in and disturbing you." Shepard accepts this and relaxes again, her eyes sliding closed. Seizing the moment, Liara flicks open the catch holding Shepard's pants closed, and slips her hand under the soft cotton of the human's briefs.

Shepard practically jumps at the touch, eyes flying open in shock. "Li!" Liara ignores the protest, pushing her fingers down through the thatch of soft hair and stroking the warm flesh beneath, provoking a choked moan of, "oh, God." Kissing Shepard's neck once more, Liara drags her teeth against her lover's skin and begins working her fingers between Shepard's legs in a slow rhythm.

"Relax, Rachel," she invites. "Let me take care of you. You need to stop thinking, so _stop_ thinking. Just feel." Working her lips down to Shepard's collar, Liara continues to caress the human's sex, careful to keep her strokes measured; her goal is to permit Shepard a gentle release of pleasure. Neither of them has the strength for anything more energetic, and she is mindful that their privacy is not assured. Glancing across, Liara sees Rachel close her eyes, feels the commander's physical surrender to Liara's lovemaking; the wet warmth of arousal beginning to slick her wandering fingers, the quickening breath, the arching of Rachel's back against Liara's breasts. The asari tightens her hold, spreading her free hand wide across the flexing muscles of Rachel's belly, enthralled as ever by the idea that she is the only person permitted to touch Shepard this way, the only one to know how Shepard comes undone in her arms, the only being to whom this peerless fighter will willingly surrender. The only soul that Rachel Shepard trusts with her heart.

"I love you, Liara," Shepard declares suddenly, emphatically, as she lets her knees fall apart, opening herself totally to her beloved.

Liara throttles back the almost overwhelming surge of emotion that spikes in her chest at those words, burying her face against her lover's neck. "I love you too, Rachel," she chokes out. "Goddess, I am blessed that you are mine."

"Ditto," Shepard agrees breathlessly as Liara takes a further liberty and sheathes two fingers within her lover, enjoying the way the human's whole body strains at the pleasurable invasion. "You, ah..." Shepard gasps as Liara begins to thrust, upping the stimulation by moving her restraining hand to tease the nub at the top of Shepard's folds, "are the best thing... uh, that ever happened to me."

_Goddess, how do you do this to me?_ "You're so beautiful," Liara whispers in reply. "I love that you trust me this much, that you'll let me so deep inside your defences, that you are not afraid to show me your cares and your fears." She remembers how she'd fought to keep from crying when Shepard had commed her three days ago, asking her to talk her through the EVA traverse to the dreadnought. How small and scared her commander had sounded, battling a weakness she could not show her comrades, but entrusted to Liara's care without fear or reservation. _Let me guide you through this moment as well, my love_, she entreats silently as she works her lips back to Shepard's ear, drives her fingers harder. "Let me in, Rachel. Embrace eternity!"

There's no resistance; increasingly, they fit together like lock and key, and Liara's awareness is suddenly filled with Rachel's presence. She can feel the rising tide of her lover's arousal, steadily building toward breaking point, Rachel's gratitude for Liara's love, for her compassion, for her kindness. _God, I love this, _the human almost laughs, her thoughts clearly expressing her happiness_. You make me feel better just by joining me_.

Liara smiles as she opens herself more fully, drawing Shepard deeper. _I know. I feel it, too. I..._

Shepard's exhaustion permeates abruptly through the meld, the unexpected weight of it tangling in Liara's thoughts like a fishing net; trapping her, dragging her down, weighted with the burdens of responsibility, duty, honour, grief, and fear, all the emotions that are keeping Shepard from inner peace. Horrified, she cannot stop herself from blurting out, _Goddess, I knew you were tired, but this... _she catches herself..._ oh, Rachel._

_It's OK, sweetheart_, Shepard tries to reassure her. _Being here with you will keep it at bay._ And sure enough, the sense of entanglement begins to fade as the balm of Liara's affections takes effect, as the last barrier between them falls. _Deeper, Li,_ Shepard begs. _Help me forget. _

_I will._ Resolved once more, Liara deepens both the meld and her thrusting rhythm, intent on driving Shepard to her climax. Waves of pleasure begin to radiate from the human, and Liara can feel the echo in her own body. It's enough to magnify Shepard's feelings, coupled with Liara's own satisfaction at succeeding in helping Shepard achieve her peak. _Let go, my love,_ she instructs, curling her fingers forward on the backstroke, and Rachel's climax breaks over her. Pleasure floods the meld, a warm, welcome wave of mild euphoria. Rachel's body jerks once, hard, and she gasps, then lets out a long soft sigh and settles against Liara as the aftershocks ebb, and tired satisfaction swamps them both.

_M'tired, Li_. Shepard's thoughts are already becoming distant as the afterglow of their lovemaking does the job no amount of exhaustion has accomplished.

_I know. Sleep, my love. I'm here, _Liara reassures her, slowly beginning to withdraw from the meld, but keeping a light contact, making sure Shepard knows she's not alone.

_G'night._

_Goodnight, Rachel. Sweet dreams_.

Less than a minute later, Rachel is sound asleep.

Liara waits a few moments in the peace of the cockpit before extricating herself from beneath Shepard. She carefully fastens Shepard's pants and smoothes her mussed hair. She collects the shards of the broken mug from the floor and deposits them in the trash chute, then cleans up the puddle of cold chocolate with a cloth from the maintenance station at the rear of the cockpit. Then, she reverently drapes the worn old hoodie over Shepard's slumbering form, and kisses her forehead in benediction. "Good night, my love. Sleep well." Unlocking the door she steps out onto the bridge. "EDI, you can reactivate your sensors. And thank you."

"You're welcome, Liara. Good night, " the AI replies. Liara nods to the ceiling, then heads for her cabin, content to leave her lover under the watchful gaze of the AI as she sleeps beneath the stars.


	3. EDI

**EDI**

It's late.

Or early, depending on the observer's point of view.

Specifically, it is mid-watch, zero three twelve, ship's time.

The Normandy is quiet.

Or at least it would be to any organic observer. EDI is aware that no matter how still the watches of the night, how peaceful the infinite dark of space, the Normandy never sleeps, and thus, by extension, neither does she.

At this precise moment, the AI is aware of greater than six million processes, routines and protocols being enacted by the ship's systems, including one subroutine that permits the machine intelligence to simplify the number to a single mathematical operator for consumption by the organic crew, and one that permits her to adopt a female pronoun in reference to 'herself'. Six million, seven hundred and thirty-four thousand, eight hundred and seven was the precise number, but that figure is now out of date by an eternity, point six seven seconds. Organic reaction times and data processing are insufficient to the provision of truly precise information. It would seem that to be organic is to exist in a world of nebulous uncertainty, often lurching from assumption to assumption on the basis of empirical experience and inferred probability. What is unexpected from the AI's point of view is how often those inferences prove to be accurate.

The concept of "gut instinct" is a good example, one that EDI does not feel she has fully discerned. Shepard has allowed her to participate in more than one shore party excursion, and at least once on each trip, the commander has precipitated action or taken a decision based entirely on what the AI would charitably categorize as conjecture. She is rapidly coming to appreciate that when Shepard uses the phrase, "I have a bad feeling about this," some form of confrontation is invariably moments from being initiated. As yet, she has been unable to determine a rule set from which Shepard's heuristics may be quantified. Joker also displays this peculiar precognition from time to time in his anticipation of manoeuvres in combat. When questioned, he had simply shrugged. "It's instinct, baby. I'm the best pilot in the galaxy, flying the best ship ever built," had been his entirely fallacious, though supremely confident, reasoning.

Zero three fifteen. EDI's programming begins a personnel sweep. All crew and passengers accounted for. Duty crew on station, commanding officer on the bridge. Confirm and cross-check: Shepard is not on duty, and Joker is asleep in his bunk. It is anomalous for the Commander to be in the cockpit alone at this time of the morning, particularly since she is supposed to be resting. EDI performs a medical diagnostic, noting Shepard's increased catecholamine and reduced cortisol levels, neurochemical indicators of stress and insomnia. Comparing this scan to previous examinations in medical, as well as archived routine scans of any shore party member on active assignment, reveal Shepard's physiological symptoms of stress and anxiety to be at a record high. EDI compiles the data and transmits the analysis to Dr. Chakwas' personal comm account. In her own way, she is concerned for the commander. Shepard has always been open with EDI, investing time and energy in learning the AI's capabilities when she first came aboard, utilizing those abilities to their full potential, and then, even more surprisingly, trusting EDI with both her ship and her crew after Jeff had unshackled her. Since returning to command for the war, she has indulged EDI's curiosity, encouraged her development, and always, without fail, been courteous and polite, treating the AI in exactly the same manner as she treats any member of her organic crew. In her own way, EDI likes Shepard, and seeing her in distress causes the AI negative feedback. Sending Chakwas the report is the only way she can act upon her concern.

Next, she tunes in to the internal security network. Ostensibly she is running diagnostics, but of more interest to the AI is the gossip she might uncover. Her curiosity, for want of a more precise description, extends to all aspects of organic behaviour. She has found the medical bay to be a source of almost endless data; the human crew in particular will tell Dr. Chakwas almost anything. The mess hall, the bathrooms and engineering (Chief Donnelly is the ship's undisputed champion of tittle-tattle, according to Lieutenant Adams, though Tali'Zorah has been making a determined challenge) are also rich veins of insight and hearsay. A quick scan of all incoming data flags that her name has been spoken, and presents an intriguing possibility of learning more about one of the Normandy's more interesting relationships.

"Commander Shepard is in the cockpit," she responds to Liara T'Soni's query. Liara's cabin is shielded most of the time; the asari values her privacy, as did Miranda Lawson before her, and only the comm channel is available for EDI's use. Liara rarely engages with the AI from her quarters for anything other than work; a quick frequency analysis of the information broker's vocal output indicates an emotional aspect to her inquiry, so she attempts to reassure the asari with additional information. "She appears to be... watching the stars."

"Is she alone?"

"Yes." Even as she answers, the AI debates providing Liara with further data. Her scans should be confidential, regulated by medical diagnostic protocols, but Liara is Shepard's chosen mate, and is clearly concerned.

"EDI?" Liara asks, "is everything all right?"

EDI computes a series of responses, aware that she might need to reprogram her emotional modifiers - her voice seems to have provided Liara with grounds for apprehension. "Shepard... does not look well." It is a vague statement, though a true one.

"She's not sleeping," Liara replies helplessly.

EDI gets a blip of positive feedback; Liara already knows Shepard is suffering from stress and sleeplessness; to corroborate her observation will not disclose a confidential medical condition. "I have observed this pattern. It correlates with her increasing stress levels. My biometric records indicate that the stress she is currently experiencing is greater than at any point in her residence aboard this ship. That is to say... I have never seen her so worried."

"Nor I," Liara agrees curtly. "Thank you, EDI. I will talk to her."

It is not clear to the AI how a conversation will resolve Shepard's condition. Liara, Garrus, and even Dr. Chakwas have failed on previous occasions to convince Commander Shepard to curtail her activities, and her physiological imbalance almost certainly requires some degree of medical treatment. "Liara, may I ask a question?"

The asari hesitates, then acquiesces grudgingly. "Of course." Clearly, she wishes to be on her way, but EDI is determined to make the most of any learning opportunity she is presented with.

"I am curious. How you will talk the Commander into sleeping? If her condition is physiologically driven, instilling a desire to rest may not be sufficient."

"It's a figure of speech, EDI," Liara replies impatiently, but there's a pause before she speaks again, and when she does, it's clear she has thought of something. "And I have more than mere words at my disposal. Can I trust in your discretion?"

"Of course," EDI confirms quickly. If she is to learn more, she must reassure the asari. "I am only a 'blabbermouth' when someone does not take pains to request confidentiality. I thus consider such conversations 'fair game' for repetition."

"I shall have to make sure I remember that," Liara observes in an arid tone. "Will you promise not to speak of anything you witness between Shepard and I?"

"I promise," EDI declares, grateful that, as yet, there is no prohibition on observation. This encounter is developing a good deal of potential.

Liara emerges from her cabin, dressed in sleeping attire and carrying a hooded sweater EDI recognises as Shepard's. The asari is barefoot, and her gait suggests the abdominal injuries she sustained on Lessus still bother her. Tracking her progress through the ship, EDI reconfirms Shepard's whereabouts. The commander has barely moved, simply shifting her stance, although now her attention appears to be on a spilled mug of hot chocolate rather than the depths of space.

Liara's arrival does not immediately garner Shepard's attention, but when the asari initiates physical contact by embracing the human from behind, Shepard barely even flinches, as though too tired to be truly surprised. "You can't sleep?" Liara asks rhetorically.

Shepard twists to regard her. "Backatcha," she replies, pressing a kiss to the asari's cheek."Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I should be." Liara's tone is light - EDI can discern that the lightness is forced, but it is not clear to her if Shepard can tell. "But I found there's something missing from my bed."

Shepard tenses in the asari's embrace, as though preparing to break free. "You won't get any sleep if I'm there," she objects.

Liara leans in, reinforcing her grip, and nips Shepard's ear with her teeth. "Your confidence has always been alluring, Commander," she drawls.

Shepard actually blushes at this, shifting her weight awkwardly. "Shit, I, uh, didn't mean that the way it came out. You're injured, and..."

"I'm healing," Liara cuts short the explanation. "I have one more therapy session with Chakwas tomorrow, then one more day of light duty. I don't imagine a little extra exercise would do any serious damage at this point." She grasps Shepard's shirt and pulls it free of her pants, then places her hands under the material, initiating more intimate tactile contact. "I miss you," the asari continues. "I feel like I've hardly seen you since we left Lessus."

EDI, given free rein to study the interplay, is fascinated. It is evident that Liara's deep personal acquaintance with Shepard's personality, physical needs, and habits is affording her a distinct advantage in the conversation. Clearly, in normal circumstances, this would be offset by Shepard's equally detailed knowledge of the asari, but the human's exhaustion is dulling her reactions, making her more susceptible to Liara's tactics. She wonders if the insight is augmented by the melding process inherent to asari sexual practices; it seems probable, and is certainly a hypothesis supported by literature sources in EDI's databanks. By reassuring Shepard of her own health and stressing her interest in physical intercourse, Liara is creating an opening to broach the topic of the commander's well-being.

"You needed to recover," Shepard is saying, but her body language and her tone of voice imply that she is reconsidering her position. Liara clearly notices, since she reacts by intensifying the sexual nature of her caresses. "Well," she murmurs in a much softer voice, "now I need something else." She kisses Shepard again, fondling one of the human's breasts beneath her shirt in an unmistakeable declaration of intent. Shepard moans in pleasure as she tips her head back to rest on Liara's shoulder. And then...

"I can't."

EDI re-validates her recording to confirm Shepard's words, which are entirely at odds with her physical reaction. Liara seems surprised too, pausing for a moment. "You can't what?" she asks eventually, tweaking Shepard's nipple playfully, but EDI does not miss the expression of confusion and pity that squalls across the asari's features.

"I'm sorry, Liara." Shepard's voice is low, guilt-ridden. "I'm _so_ tired. I can barely think, and my head feels like someone's been using it for an anvil. I'd love to make love to you, I really would, but..."

Liara responds immediately, ceasing all intimate contact and reverting to a platonic, supportive embrace, her arms around Shepard's shoulders. "I don't need you to make love to me, Rachel. I just need you to be near me. I want you with me. Even when you can't sleep. Even when you have nightmares. _Especially_ then." She kisses Shepard's temple for emphasis. "I'm here for you, my love. Don't shut me out when _you_ need _me_."

Shepard's head tips forward till it rests on her chest, and it seems to EDI that she has reached a decision. "I need you," she confesses, her voice stronger. "I can't unwind. Can't _relax_. I just need to _stop_ thinking, but I've got no energy to even do brainless exercise." Liara lets Shepard go, and tries to step past her, but the human stops her with an outstretched arm. "Careful." She nods to the spill on the floor; she has noticed Liara is barefoot. "I dropped my drink - the shards are probably sharp. I should clean that up."

Liara goes around her other side and sits in Joker's chair."It will keep. Come sit with me." She pats the seat in invitation. "We can never actually let you drive the Normandy, you understand, for safety's sake, but now's your chance to pretend."

Shepard laughs at the quip. "I promise not to touch the steering wheel," she concedes as she sits between Liara's outstretched legs and leans back. "Joker would kill me if I messed with anything."

EDI finds this statement flawed; the chances of Joker killing Shepard are extremely remote. However, the articulation of Jeff's likely adverse reaction to having his "stuff" messed with is well within his known behavioural parameters. One of the traits of a good leader that EDI has noticed that Shepard often displays is a deep knowledge of her crew. It is a wise precaution for Liara to forbid Shepard to touch the helm controls.

Liara wraps her arms around Shepard's waist. "Kiss me," she requests. Shepard obeys, and this kiss lingers, far more intimate and erotic than its predecessors. Liara begins stroking Shepard's body once more. "EDI, lock the door and shut off your sensors in this compartment, please," she orders.

"Complying," the AI acknowledges immediately.

"Liara, what..."

"Shhh, it's all right," Liara cuts Shepard's protest off. "I just don't want anyone barging in and disturbing you."

EDI marvels at the trust her organic companions display. They make requests of her, and when she replies in the affirmative, they take her at her word. And therein lies a quandary. Despite being aware that she will incur a negative feedback loop for not complying with Liara's request, EDI decides she can only fulfil half of what she has verbally agreed to. She locks the door, but her compulsion to gather information overrides her integrity algorithm. She reprograms the sensor indicators to display their red offline lights, and continues observing as the asari opens the closure of Shepard's BDU pants and positions her hand beneath the Commander's underwear. It is apparent that Liara is initiating sexual contact, that this is the "more than simple words" to which she was referring. While this is nothing EDI has not witnessed before - Lieutenant Vega has been "blowing off steam" with Lieutenant Xu for weeks now, to select one from many examples - Shepard and Liara are circumspect in their physical affections, and appear much more emotionally involved than most of the pairings EDI has observed. Additionally, the sensors in both their cabins have been permanently disabled, so in nearly every respect, it is likely that EDI is about to acquire new data.

Shepard reacts with surprise at Liara's confident action, but her objections dissipate with a whispered blasphemy as Liara begins to stimulate her genital region while kissing her neck.

"Relax, Rachel," the asari instructs. "Let me take care of you. You need to stop thinking, so stop thinking. Just feel."

EDI monitors the changes in Shepard's diagnostic indicators with interest as Liara continues to arouse her. Increased pulse and respiration, heightened blood pressure, and various neurochemical shifts, the most obvious being a spike in Shepard's oxytocin levels. A quick search of her databanks instructs that the hormone, a key pharmacological component of pair bonding in sexually active species and known to be released in elevated quantities by sexual stimulation, results in decreased anxiety and stress when in proximity to a mate, as well as feelings of contentment and security. The AI is impressed; Liara appears to have alighted upon a strategy that will go some way toward offsetting the neurochemical imbalance that is affecting Shepard. The only question is, is the asari aware of the scientific approach, or is this yet another example of organic "gut instinct"? EDI's negative feedback loop spikes as she realises that, as she is observing the encounter covertly, she cannot ask or receive clarification from Liara directly. Perhaps Dr. Chakwas will answer the question in the abstract at some future juncture, but for this specific use case, EDI will never know.

She refocuses her attention just in time to hear Shepard speak. "I love you, Liara."

"I love you too, Rachel," Liara responds. "Goddess, I am blessed that you are mine."

"Ditto," Shepard agrees breathlessly. Her body tenses, and EDI notes the new position and different movement of Liara's hand. Evidently she has progressed to digital penetration, seeking to intensify Shepard's pleasure. "You, ah... are the best thing... uh, that ever happened to me."

"You're so beautiful," Liara whispers in reply. "I love that you trust me this much, that you'll let me so deep inside your defences, that you are not afraid to show me your cares and your fears." Her eyes begin to darken, and they are jet black by the time she speaks again. "Let me in, Rachel. Embrace eternity!"

EDI watches, fascinated, as the lovers seem to freeze for a moment, and then their physical activity resumes, but with a much greater degree of synchronicity. They begin to breathe in rhythm, Shepard's husky, soft moans with each penetration offset by Liara's quieter gasps. Shepard's eyes remain open, but she simply stares into space, all of her attention focused inwards. Were she capable of feelings, EDI would feel cheated. The meld between Shepard and Liara has robbed her of important context. Critical communication at the moment of climax is missing from the narrative, she realises, even as Shepard flinches, her whole body going rigid, a low groan escaping her as she sags back against Liara. A series of smaller spasms rack her frame as her orgasm subsides, and Liara removes her hand, wrapping her spent lover in a secure hug as the human's eyes flutter closed.

They sit in silence for a few moments, and when Liara finally moves, it is clear that Shepard is asleep. The asari has achieved her objective, and the black slowly drains from her eyes as she withdraws from the meld. EDI watches as she tends lovingly to Shepard, closing her pants, tidying her hair and cleaning up the spilled drink before employing Shepard's sweater as a blanket and kissing the human on the forehead, as she might a child. "Good night, my love," she murmurs. "Sleep well." Then, she leaves the commander asleep at the helm of her ship, unlocks the door and steps out onto the bridge. "EDI, you can reactivate your sensors. And thank you."

"You're welcome, Liara. Good night, " EDI responds. She waits until the asari has returned to bed, until the asari is also sound asleep, before reviewing her records and filing them under 'Romance'. She estimates that she has acquired more data on Shepard and Liara in this one encounter than in the past three weeks of interactions. Certainly worth suffering negative feedback for. It will require much study.

She sets the atmosphere circulation in the cockpit to a higher frequency and activates the decontamination cycle on minimum setting. Liara has been careful, but possibly not careful enough, and EDI's gut instinct is telling her one thing about what has transpired here tonight.

Joker must never know.


End file.
